


Assisting a Friend

by ArtHistory



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Blood Drinking, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Stuffing, Vampires, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/pseuds/ArtHistory
Summary: At fancy, West End donor parties, Dr. Jonathan Reid cannot eat a thing. Luckily, Dr. Edgar Swansea certainly can...





	Assisting a Friend

He fell back in his chair.

It was a plump, plush thing, Red velvet on dark-stained oak.

Edgar clutched at his stomach, panting like a dog. He forced down a blech, feeling the angry, wet thing growl and grumble within him, fighting for release. Unfortunately, in his desperation to not shake the chandelier with his improper gastronomic releases, Edgar could not keep back a whine.

Hands appeared on his shoulders in an instant. 

The plate before him immediately refilled. A generous scoop of rich, fatty mutton and potatoes, drowned in a sea of gravy. Edgar’s fork was tenderly placed back in his hand.

“Come now, Edgar, a generous donor insisted on this little soiree. It would be in very poor taste to refuse.”

Edgar’s stomach twitched as he brought the fork to his lips, his chestnut moustache already flecked with the past three courses, reaching for his napkin having become too much of an exhaustion after his second serving of beef. He felt every warm, rich drop of gravy  smooth from his tongue to his throat - the meat so tender, the potatoes so very soft, both so soaked with fat they simply melted in the administrator’s mouth - drop into his stomach, the organ letting out another aching grumble.

Lady Ashbury’s mansion had been generously donated to Pembroke Hospital after she left the city, along with a large chunk of funds. The hospital had sold it for a very handsome sum to a representative of a new, anonymous patron, who now threw the most lavish parties Edgar had ever seen. They’d all been thrown by the Pembroke’s said new, anonymous donor to draw in  further donations from the wealthy, upper-crust elite of the West End. All of these parties had required Edgar, as the pembroke Hospital administrator and de facto representative to to rub elbows with the city’s elite over brandy and such a shocking number of appetizers the good doctor was surprised he'd able to fit into the carriages Dr. Reid had called for-

Jonathan. That *Jonathan* had called for them.

The doctor, vampire, and what Edgar was starting to consider a very dear friend had always insisted they take a carriage back, even though the walk wasn't far. Edgar had insisted that the exercise might help him digest a bit, but the vampire had simply smiled and opened the door. Edgar had blushed the first time, but by the second he was more than happy to let a wealthy, handsome immortal hold doors open for him, especially when he felt he was assisting Jonathan in maintaining his charade of mortality.

All of Jonathan's appetizers at these delightful, donor soirées had quickly been passed onto Edgar's plate, and just as quickly vanished down the mustachioed man’s throat. It was imperative Jonathan's true identity as an undead creature not be revealed, at least as long as all of his comically wealthy West End friends were interested in giving money to the Pembroke. And, to be honest, Edgar did enjoy being the vampire’s secret holder. His trusted confidant, advisor. Made him feel warm, fuzzy inside.

He was certainly more than warm now.

Head dizzy with brandy, stomach heavy, tight with his and Jonathan's servings of a ten course meal. If his vest had been tight when they’d started eating, it was frankly screaming now.

“Just a few more bites, Edgar. Don't you like lamb?” Jonathan purred, color rising to Edgar’s cheeks as he felt Jonathan’s lips brush his ear. His stomach muscles, stretched as they were, barely even fidgeted as Edgar tried to suck in his gut.

His normally trim, lithe waist had bloated, swelled into a definitely gentlemanly pot belly. His bony chest blossomed into a perky set of soft, white tits kissed with pink nipples. Love handles had just begun to bloom at his sides, each a smooth handful of snowy cream. Thighs thick, eager to meet, to kiss one another with each bite he’d swallowed since these endless, almost nightly parties had begun. And his arse. Dear lord, he’d torn the seat of his trousers stepping into his and Jonathan’s carriage not two nights before, both his round, full cheeks on display in the vampire's face before Edgar had hurried to his seat, immediately launching into a beet-red discussion of recent weather they’d been having.

He’d never been this fat in his entire life, often skipping meals in exchange for more time to do his research. But in eating twice his share of all these treats…

Edgar gasped, feeling the vampire’s nimble fingers slowly, gently opening his jacket, easing them aside and peering over the doctor’s shoulder as if he was taking in the world’s greatest show.

“J-Jonathan I-”

The belch found itself freed.

Edgar moaned in pleasure as he felt the pressure on his tight, tight belly lessen ever-so-slightly, the blast of hot air rustling the hair of the vampire’s beard.

Jonathan’s eyes went wide.

Edgar’s cheeks, his entire face went impossibly redder.

“O-Oh dear lord! M-My deepest apologies Dr. Re-”

“Jonathan. Please, Edgar, call me Jonathan.” The vampire said, voice flowing like a warm bath around Edgar’s panicked mind.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan, I-”

“Am doing wonderfully. You’re doing wonderfully, Edgar.” Jonathan said, his voice echoing slightly, his hot hands splaying across Edgar’s stuffed gut, smoothing around either side of the man’s buttons, rubbing lightly through the tweed of his visibly strained vest.

“It was the soup course that did me in, I think.” Edgar sighed, feeling the vampire’s chest, his tight, toned stomach now through the chair, as if he was suddenly sitting in the vampire’s lap, his own muscles relaxing almost on instinct. 

He’d also consumed his vampire associate’s glasses of brandy.

“The bowls were certainly larger than I expected. And I have always been a bit over-eager about the flavor of pumpkins and spice.” Edgar purred, his eyes fluttering closed.

“And the bread that came with it! So dark and rich! I believe I ate not just our portions, but the entire tables.” Edgar chuckled, feeling himself melt into the vampire’s muscular arms, wiggling his round, full bottom as he got more comfortable.

“The salad course was simple, but so elegantly presented. I’m honestly grateful I got to see if quietly vanish twice.” Edgar added, arching his back with another sigh as he felt Jonathan slowly pop open the buttons of his painfully tight vest, feeling his gut flood out just a bit further with each pop. “And the first dinner course! Oh! I’ve never had chicken with such flavor!” Edgar moaned once again as his gut was freed from his vest, spilling forward into the air before him.

His eyes fluttered open, then went wide.

Edgar’s gut was damn near spherical. The buttons of his white undershirt gaping and strained around his obscenely overfed middle, wide swaths of snowy flesh peaked out quizzically, every inch of his greedy gut desperate to meet the light. Then the fork appeared in his field of vision.

“Just a few more bites, Edgar.” Jonathan’s voice purred again, his muscular thighs flexed beneath Edgar’s soft, fat ones.

Edgar flushed. Heart pounding. Head spinning with arousal. The vampire had indeed lifted him like he’d weighed nothing, planting Edgar in his lap, feeding him like a pet pig.

The doctor’s mouth opened. He let himself be fed.

Edgar groaned, rolling his wide hips atop the vampire’s lap and feeling his need, hearing Jonathan’s carefully contained huffs and puffs.

“Two more bites, pet, just two more.” Jonathan panted, his sharp teeth nipping needily at Edgar’s ear, his hands quickly undoing the buttons of Edgar’s shirt, hurriedly untucking the stretched thing.

The doctor could only belch in response, cheeks bulging around another massive forkful of creamy mutton, gut bulging that more more obscenely forward. He swallowed.

Then Edgar saw stars.

He let out a sharp, pleasured cry, sputtering as Jonathan crammed the last forkful into his mouth and swallowing those calories and his moan, electricity lighting up his form.

Jonathan was shaking beneath him, huffing and growling as Edgar’s eyes fluttered open to see his trousers destroyed, button rocketed off to God-knew-where, underbelly painted with his ecstasy.

“I...I-I just-”

“Achieve orgasm from breaking your trousers. Yes, pet, you certainly did.” The vampire growled further, the deep, guttural need of it echoing into Edgar’s spine.

Edgar felt the doctor rutting against him, felt his own manhood - exhausted as it was - respond in kind. The vampire’s hot hand closed around his cum-slicked cock, rutting, bucking faster as he began to pump.

“You’ve really swelled into a proper pig, Edgar. A soft, round, spoiled little thing.” Jonathan panted, breath hot as dragon’s fire on Edgar’s neck, Jonathan’s nose buried in his hair.

Edgar only puffed out his belly in response, both man groaning as the move revealed just how absurdly stuffed it was, so little did it move.

“Y...you’re the donor, aren’t you?” Edgar said, biting his lower lip and failing to suppress a needy cry as the vampire’s free hand locked onto his gut, “All these parties, all these feasts...you...you planned them, didn’t you?” Edgar huffed and puffed.

He felt the vampire’s lips twist into a smile.

Then he came as Jonathan’s teeth sunk into the soft flesh of his neck.

It was a long, almost endless feeling of pure, hedonistic pleasure. Edgar felt himself drift throughout the world, swelling and expanding as it did, his gut growing rounder, wider, fatter until it took up entire towns, cities, until he was the planet itself, feeding and nourishing all life he could.

He saw the room again as he felt Jonathan licking at his neck, kissing his cheek again and again.

Edgar’s belly was further painted with his seed, his pants obliterated by his gut, shirt and vest hanging limp and definitely no ready to be stretched around his globe of a middle.

Jonathan was standing before him now, a handkerchief wiping softly at his neck, a napkin at his belly. Edgar purred, smiling dumbly up at him.

The vampire caught his cheeks, leaning down to kiss him slow, tugging his jacket closed around his ruined underclothes, his ruined trousers.

Edgar’s breath caught as he felt a napkin land in his lap.

“Now get ready, piggy.” Jonathan purred, pushing Edgar’s chair back towards the table.

“It’s time for dessert.”


End file.
